Foggy Hike

Scouting out some photo shoot locations on a delightfully foggy day.

As For The Bus... Some Say It Sank So Deep That It Couldn't Be Found

It happened thirty years ago, on a late Halloween afternoon.  A school bus was on its usual route, but this wasn’t your typical school bus… and they weren’t your typical kids. There were eight of them, and they were… different… troubled… disturbed.  

Who's Got A Kiss For The Pickety Witch?

The Fountain

A stunning prop from Revenant Manor.  I rarely use the word mesmerizing to describe a Halloween prop, but it totally applies here.

Click below to see it in action...

Back To School

I looked out the window this morning and saw kids waiting for the bus on the corner.  Oh, how I loathed school.  In all of its many forms.  Sure, it meant cooler weather and Halloween, but what a cruel tradeoff.  

Speaking of school...

Behold the Dent Schoolhouse:

Click here for the main site.

Shoes

Click below...

Thanks, Jeanne!

Now Playing: She / Swimming

Some Sunday music by Moon Ate the Dark.

Click below...

There Was Only The Sky And The Wind And The Water And The Autumn Coming On Lonely.

"Strange," he said, softly. "Strangest thing I ever saw. She's been dead a long time."

I repeated his words.

He nodded. "Ten years, I'd say. There haven't been any children drowned here this year.  There were twelve children drowned since 1933, but we found all of them before a few hours had passed. All except one, I remember. This body here, why it must be ten years in the water. It's not---- pleasant."

I stared at the gray sack in his arms. "Open it," I said. I don't know why I said it. The wind was louder.

He fumbled with the sack.

"Hurry, man, open it!" I cried.

Ray Bradbury, The Lake

Ice Zombie

Another shot from the "Thin Ice" photo shoot.

Dark Waters

Scary Tub Lady To See In The Dark

The Lady Of The Tub

 

Mother: A Photo Shoot

It is essential that the forensic pathologist or medicolegal death investigator recognize and appreciate the uniqueness of immersed and submerged remains. The typical decomposition changes proceed more slowly in the water, primarily due to cooler temperatures and the anaerobic environment. However, once a body is removed from the water, putrefaction will likely be accelerated. 

Text source.

Thin Ice

Immersion

Image source.

Putrid Rest

Image by Raeleen PIKE.

Spelunk

Image source.

Waiting For Summer To Die

Image source.

Water

Something like an albatross around the neck. No. More like a millstone. A plumbing stone. By God. Damn them all.

Blake, The Fog


Image by pageofbats.


Screw you, Irene.
Pardon the French, but there it is.

Rain

Ed told us to wait at the abandoned hospital, at the old steps of the main entrance. It was October 30th and it had been raining for the last four days. The river and all the creeks were swollen and overflowing. The water was loud and peach-colored from all the mud it was carrying. Giant tree stumps and massive logs would shoot by, surfacing and rolling over to briefly show their shiny black bark before disappearing downstream. Lord knows where they ended up. And it was still raining. Hard. And we were sick of it. We knew Halloween was going to be a wet and ruined one. So when Ed had said that Halloween would be a day early this year, we would have waited anywhere he told us to wait.

And there we were - at the old hospital. Listening to the rain streaming down onto the marble steps, onto the leaves of overgrown weeds and trees, and gurgling down broken roof tiles and spraying out over missing gutters. We weren't waiting long when we spotted Ed approaching, walking down our old bike path through the property. He was carrying something in his arms. It looked like an oversized shoe box, rounded at the ends. As he got closer, we could tell it was a wooden box, very old and worn. He placed it on one of the steps and answered our unasked questions. "It's a baby coffin!"

Ed said that the river had swallowed up the oldest part of the town cemetery and had washed away the small hills and tombstones. Caskets were being torn from the ground and he said he found his when he was riding his bike the day before. The small box had been sitting half in the water and half on the yellow centerlines of a road which was currently under the swollen banks of the river. So he scooped it up and took it home. We never knew him to lie, so we circled around the object and listened to his story. He told us the police were aware of the damage and that local farmers had reported a few large caskets which had been floating above their drowned crops. He told us he was going to show his parents the coffin, but something had stopped him. A sound.

Ed told us he heard a scratching sound from inside the casket. And that at first he thought it was probably a rat which had climbed through a small hole in the old wood to get away from the rising water. But the surface was unbroken, and the two clasp locks were still tight, corroded and now one piece with the wood of the box. When we excitedly protested, he simply told us to listen for ourselves.

At that precise moment, the rain stopped.


Image source.